


Indefinable

by chrissy2



Category: Lord of the Flies
Genre: Attempts at Recovery, Confusion near to Schizophrenia, Dysfunctional Relations, Existential Crisis, Identitity Crisis, Looking For A Sequel, M/M, More Sexual Tension Than Anything, PTSD, Post-Island, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissy2/pseuds/chrissy2
Summary: [Chapter 12.]"...And then there was that indefinable connection between himself and Jack; who therefore would never let him alone; never..."





	Indefinable

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. No profit.

**I**

Upon their return from Hell Island to Hell in civilization, the Lord of the Flies present at all times and on all land, Ralph attempted recovery by pleading with his parents to move to another school. The uniforms only reminded him of a certain fat boy with broken specs that fell forty feet and turned red before being rolled out to sea. He could not look upon the same faces, even in uniform, as the uniforms only reminded him of the illusion of innocence and the glamour of the beaches before the enlightenment of human nature.

In fact, he could hardly go anywhere - the shore, the churches full of singing choirs - hardly do anything without feeling like his every move was being watched. What was watching him and why would they care to watch him, you ask? He wasn't sure - Yahweh, a savage - but it was a filth he would never be able to scrub off, not for years.

 

**II**

The news made the littluns feel abandoned, like they were being left on the island. Ralph felt the worst of survivor's guilt, and he was completely aware of how trapped the littluns were in their world of parents and teachers and authorities - but he promised to write them all.

 

**III**

The day before the move, Maurice and Roger informed Ralph of Jack dropping out, moving away as well; he isn't sure why they feel the need to inform him of the affairs of his Hunter, his Eyes In All Places, and yet he understood completely.

 

**IV**

The reporters tracking his whereabouts and wanting to ask question after question about Hell Island came and came, but he was in no condition to speak of the events until two years later. One day, he woke with an indefinable feeling, only for a knock on the door to come hours later: "One of them damned writers again! Go away, you swine!"

Then to the Adult's surprise, Ralph steps in, offering to answer the reporter's questions. It wasn't until after the interview that he felt regret, that he fell to weakness at the wrong time: surely the simpletons of the world would blow the details out of proportion, but then again, what was there to exaggerate? It was true that they gutted innocent animals and committed flat-out murder. (Which is which now? Killing animals is survival, but killing man is murder?)

The only questions he found himself staggering to answer were that of the eldest of the choir boys a soldier noticed when they arrived for the burning of the island: "Did he start the fire? What did he have against you? Why were you running from him?"

I don't know who or what started it. It may have started naturally, by dangerous rays of the sun in dangerous angles of the trees and leaves. I didn't know him too much. We were just playing a game. There were some accidents resulting in not being too careful. Children don't understand death and believe they are invincible, right?

"Sure they do," she nodded. "Sure they do."

It was then Ralph knew she was very clever, smarter than he thought. She must have asked some of the others already - one or two of the littluns pressured to by their attention-seeking parents, one of the choir boys - or at least one or two of the soldiers. 

"Who else have you interviewed?" Ralph then asks. "Where did you meet?"

 

**V**

His Eyes In All Places could even be felt through the denseness of time and change. And at a church of all places; it's a good place to sit and think or to loiter. Some cities will charge you for suspicious loitering. Ralph had heard the same story over and over, of killers and rapists and druggies looking for a place they will be accepted - (or a place to stalk, a place that enabled) - a place they can pray the sins away without anyone looking at them horribly for their line in the news.

There's that feeling from long ago, when he was unsure of how to light a fire and all the eyes of society waiting for what they can produce. The large preaching room is almost empty, maybe just four people in all the rows and rows of seats, the flickering candles and choir of the chanting priests their only company. Even from his back side, Ralph already knows it's him. With an indecisive heart, he walks up to his row and stands at his side:

"Hey."

The redhead turns to look and Ralph has the memory of looking deep into the pit of the mountain and seeing the empty, black eyes of the Monster. He's still thin, but he seems a bit too thin for his height. There are more lines under his eyes, the irises darker. His jawline and lips are still handsome, and his hair is short again, the strands sticking out from beneath a black cap similar to the one before, and Ralph is trying not to see him with the face paint.

The dark, confused eyes look him up and down:

"Ralph?"

The fair-haired boy can only half-smile; the travel took most of the day and he was a bit tired: "Yeah."

"Shit."

Ralph chuckles, "Mind if I join you?"

"I don't know why you'd want to."

"I don't know why either."

But he had to. That's all he knew. He had to.

"There's no else to talk to, is there?"

It takes Ralph a moment to understand what he means by that, then he nods, and sits down.

 

**VI**

How Ralph grew comfortable enough to join his Near Murderer - alone - in his apartment, was beyond him. He thought, what difference would it make if he were home or at his work or with other friends. (Was this man even a friend; what was friend?) What difference would it make if the Lord of the Flies were everywhere? What difference would it make if he was his Eyes In All Places?

They sit comfortably in opposing armchairs by a fireplace that remained cold:

"One time I didn't sleep for five days straight."

"Same with me."

"Night terrors?"

"More or less. Drinking helped get me to sleep for a time, then I grew tolerant. Then I tried pills. It was the same. When I tried both, I was carried to a doctor."

"For sleep or for...?"

"Would it have mattered, anyhow?" When Ralph doesn't respond, Jack continues: "It got to where I didn't know what anything was anymore. I was thirteen and experiencing a crisis of the mind. I couldn't sing without thinking of that fainting bat. I couldn't do projects without becoming aggressive. So I left school. I left home."

"I'm sorry."

"You of all people should not feel sorry for me."

 

**VII**

Their "story" is published all throughout but Ralph is not interested in reading it, and he doesn't want to give his opinion on it. Not to the public, anyway. He wonders how the littluns becoming biguns are handling it.

There's a cold war between the communists and the capitalists of the world. Meanwhile, the futurists and conservatives are raging war over a fellow name Kinsey, who just published a book on orgasm times and fetishes. The Africans are earning dirt for the luxurious things they forge for his world and most around him don't know a goddamn thing about it.

Ralph learns all this and wonders what it would take to make the world collapse in on itself. 

 

**VIII**

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Jack asks him one visit.

Ralph just shrugs, his thought and reason blank for a moment: "I don't know. All I could think about was surviving. Then when we got home, all I thought about was moving away."

When Jack stares into him, impales him with those dark eyes, Ralph summarizes:

"We were children accidentally put into a dire situation. We were frightened. We were confused. Up until that point, we were told what to do. We were taught how to walk and talk, then once we walked and talked, we were put into a school and taught how to sit down and remain silent."

"I was the elder."

"Still a child."

"That's no excuse." Jack smirks: "You must be down-right batty."

"The Americans have started looking into new things. They're saying children's brains are not fully developed and will not develop until they are older."

"Have you been reading that book?" As in the one about their 'story'.

"No. I'll probably just get pissed."

 

**IX**

It gets to point where they stay indoors because of the publicity. Ralph starts to spend nights on his couch. It is unnerving and yet somehow, he is able to sleep peacefully for the first time since Hell Island, even with the active dreaming, even with the fear of the voices.

 

**X**

"And that Kinsey fellow," Jack says, "have you read from him?"

Ralph scoffs, "I'd feel so embarrassed to check out such a book."

"You should read it. It's endlessly fascinating. I didn't know there were others with my kind of desires."

"Oh, yeah?"

Jack impales with those dark eyes again: "You could learn about yourself too."

 

**XI**

"Sometimes, only sometimes," Ralph confesses. "I wish I were on that island again."

Jack could only smirk. "Castle Rock was the shit."

"It _was_ cool."

"You didn't seem to think so the first time seeing it."

"I was lying. I was a snooty little brat. All I thought about was getting rescued. I didn't want to like it."

Jack chuckles.

"I think that if it were another time, if were all other ages, it might have been different. Maybe we could have made it work. Maybe if we were more vocal..."

"I believe we were pretty vocal, vocal enough," Jack nods.

"I don't think so."

The two young men stared into each other's eyes, a great endless ocean with a mirage to give the illusion that it had split open.

"I hurt you first," Ralph starts.

Jack's eyes, Ralph notices, shows the first signs of hurt in their darkness. "Again, do not flip this."

"But I did."

In a moment, there came a glisten in Jack's dark eyes, a line of pearls along his dark orbs before drifting out to sea. "That was daft of me. I shouldn't have run like that."

"It's okay."

"I was so embarrassed. I was jealous of you."

Ralph glances down shyly, snickers, "Jealous - of me? I had no idea what I was doing."

"On the contrary, I think you knew more than anyone."

"It wasn't me."


End file.
